Daily Prompt: The Interview – Olivia Pope

So here goes a quick stab at the daily prompt over at The Daily Post.

I’d sit here and write away but it’s almost 1am.  The only reason I’m still up is I’m waiting for my hair to dry a bit.  I got a notice that we’re getting a boiler upgrade tomorrow which may lead to hot water and heat interruptions.  I’m not risking it and I’d really rather not take a shower at work.

I was thinking of doing Jack Bauer at first.  Too complicated.  Too long a story to tell.  And just as I was going through the existing list of entries already written, one name popped up: Olivia Pope.  I’m talking about the lead character in my current favorite of favorites of all TV shows  — SCANDAL, which is another Shonda Rhimes creation.

This is one show I don’t mind watching over and over again, even in one sitting.  When there’s no other show that catches my fancy, I just hit restart as the episode ends.  When the show is on haitus, I run the previous season over and over again.

I like Olivia Pope because she’s a very smart and strong heroine.  A lawyer who doesn’t practice law but instead runs a crisis management office under the banner of Olivia Pope and Associates.  She is a complicated woman who is in love with the incumbent President who has a first lady who is fighting tooth and nail to keep her man because of her own personal ambitions.

So I imagine us sitting at the park where she usually sits with Cyrus, the sitting Chief of Staff.  She’d be holding her coffee, and maybe so would I.

Then her phone would ring and she’d tell me, “I’m sorry, it’s the White House…I have to go.”

Interview postponed for another day. (To be continued…)

Pushing myself to the limit – in response to today’s prompt from the DAILY POST: Unconventional Love

I’ve taken to getting my inspiration from the prompts and ideas from The Daily Post here on wordpress.  Well today’s (or yesterday’s) prompt was UNCONVENTIONAL LOVE.  The challenge they posed was: ” Over the weekend, we explored different ways to love. Today, tell us about the most unconventional love in your life.”

Hmmm.. I had thought about trying to write about it, but it was one of those topics that caught me in a bind and I didn’t quite know how to define what should be an easy answer to the question.

I guess it all boils down to one’s definition of what is “conventional”, and then find the exact opposite of that definition to come up with UNconventional.  But is there anything conventional about the powerful emotion that is love?

What is the unconventional love in my life?  To me this would be loving something or someone and feeling a deep hatred or loathing for that same object of your affection.  Writing that is puzzling to me because I know what it means that I don’t.  It befuddles me to go back to the words I had written.  That is what’s unconventional about it.  It doesn’t make sense because it is not what we expect as normal.

They say you cannot love something and yet not want to have it or not want to be with that person.  You cannot love someone and hate that person, too.  There lies the reluctance in me to even dig deep for it because perhaps the reality of it is that it is no longer love.. perhaps it’s morphed into hate.  Perhaps it’s unconventional because it is not what I think it is, or it is something else beyond what it should be.

My heart no longer feels warm and fuzzy like it used to now that I am trying to figure it out.  It’s just a long and empty humming in my ear.  I smile at certain things that remind me of what used to be, but the reality of where I am now and how I feel stirs up so much anger in my heart.  So much so that I cannot see myself going back to that state of not having to fight off the anger and the hatred.  The shimmer and shining moments have all been eclipsed by a heavy darkness.

Most days I just focus on other things and count my blessings.  I think of how some have taken my side, who have chosen me despite my failures and my imperfections and my mistakes.  I think about having been chosen not out of love but out of a sense of a need to keep things normal and of keeping the peace — but does it matter why?  For all my failings, I was given a safe haven where others had thought it better to shut me out of their world. 

There, the anger surfaces again.  Is it unconventional love or just anger? 

I wish I could write about something that would speak of a giddy lightness of the heart… of smiles and giggles and happy thoughts.  But that is all part of the past.

Unconventional love it is.  Or was.  I believe the proper tense is the latter : was. 



Tulips and grates

Spring 2013: Tulip in Bryant Park

I find the contrast in this picture very striking although it was just “another one of those pictures” I snapped away on impulse.  A gorgeous tulip in mid-bloom around the grated fence on the perimeter of one of the monuments around the park.  I was walking back to the office after getting some pasta for myself and a sandwich and soup for the boss yesterday.  I could’ve just walked past it and I almost did.  The only camera I had was my blackberry, and it wasn’t the Bold which took better pictures.  I just felt it would be such a waste of visual candy to resist, so I snapped away.

Another one of those moments when I could’ve just hurried on or given in to being dyahe or shy about stopping and taking a handheld to take a picture — these days I feel like a dinosaur taking the blackberry out when everyone else has an iPhone, Android or Galaxy.  I’m cheap.  The two blackberrys are company issued, and I can’t find a good enough reason to get any of the other phones of choice unless they were given to me for free.

I’m trying to make it home to my boy a little earlier today since the boss is out.  Not by much, but I just wanted to have more time to chill.  I have my pearl necklace to work on which, I hope I can finally start stringing today.

Stringing beads and more so pearls is not something I can claim to be good at, so I thought I’d defer to one of my sukis or favorite shops here on Sixth Avenue.  (AKA Avenue of the Americas).  When in doubt, ask someone who knows

I already knew that I had a choice between string or uber thin wire, and while he said stringing would produce a more elegant strand if knotted, when he saw my freshwater pearls (which he immediately commented must be an expensive strand), he suggested I do wire instead given that I meant to produce a multistrand choker.  So wire , it is.  I’m excited to lay out the strands and maybe start crimping the ends.  Maybe.

I like the feeling of knowing I have created something.   I’ll get to it soon.

Spring as it unfolds

Spring 2013: The tree by PS213

One thing that has always had me in awe year in and year out since I moved to this side of the world is how dramatic Mother Nature’s changing of the seasons happens.  Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall — each season is marked by very pronounced changes that serves as a reminder that time will stop for no one.

Even as the trees shed their blooms, the carpet of petals that gather on the ground directly under it is yet another statement of constant change.

Twenty minutes to midnight and I can hear my boy snoring ever so lightly.  He’s a big boy and has always been a big boy.  When he was a baby, my mother used to get worried that his snoring might not be normal.  (Apparently, none of my siblings nor I snored when we were younger.)  The doctor assured me it was normal.  Besides, it wasn’t a real snore — you could just hear him breathing more audibly.

I can’t believe we’re halfway through May now.  Spring has taken a step back yet again with our temperatures dipping to 40.  I wish the weather would make up its mind temperature-wise.  I felt the heater and it’s on again.  And to think I was getting ready to wear my summer clothes already.  I guess not yet.

I spent the weekend creating necklaces — for myself.  I managed to finish five necklaces in all — including the one for Lou and a friend.  I revised the necklace for Lou to have a pendant of Our Lady of Lourdes as its focal point.  I made one for another friend who is a devotee of Our Lady of Guadalupe.   I have been on a creative streak, yet I have managed to botch up my necklace for the wedding this weekend.  I had initially bought 4 strands of gorgeous pearls and bought an additional 2 strands last Friday, but when I put them side-by-side, they were of different shades.  I will go and check out which shade has additional strands I can get to complete 6 strands in all.

The good news is I might eventually get the chance to do a photowalk through Bryant Park — maybe tomorrow on the way to my pearl supplier =)  I actually did manage to stop and take some macro shots of tulips that had already bloomed and opened.  There’s more in the park.  Tomorrow, it is!

Happy Mother’s Day, Mama

My Mother and I

Mother’s Day is special to me because of the person who molded me to be the mother that I am now and who makes me worthy of being celebrated as a mother myself.  47 years ago, she gave birth to me and even though we are 10,000 miles apart, she continues to hold my hand.

We love you, Mama.  Even when you feel like we have grown up to be very different people from the children you once knew, your heart is very precious to us.  It is your love and strength that keeps us all up even now as we have our own families.  Thank you for blessing our lives with your love.

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A little bit of encouragement

I have a bit of a problem with “coming out into the world” and going outside my blogspace. I used to contribute to a “Mommy” blog but I found the site and the posts getting too commercial and I wasn’t into that. There are the many photo pools, etc., currently running online like the Weekly Photo Challenge for WordPress being run from The Daily Post.

Last week’s prompt was “FROM ABOVE” and while I had a ton of shots of the park below from my berth 41 storeys above midtown Manhattan, I ended up taking a new one anyway. I was iffy about submitting it because while it was literally “FROM ABOVE”, most of the shots that had been submitted were literally a view of the ground from someone standing up or from the top of a table or thing that was being shot. Mine was kind of that that it wasn’t. My friend, Lou, however, said that to her, it was still from above. I posted it below and submitted the link. The “likes” spiked, and the views, too. My space was busy yesterday with over 50 hits from the Philippines.

I know, it’s just over 50 and that’s probably nothing compared to what the more popular sites get, but to my usually sleepy little corner here, it’s usually me, myself and I and a half dozen other people who somehow like seeing what I’ve been up to.

Thanks, Lou.

Often, we forget how a little encouragement can go a long way. Many people need more of that instead of negative ideas or criticisms. Someone I know has always been affected by people’s views that of his siblings, he was the only one who never “made it”, yet of all of them, his educational attainment was the highest. My BFF Donna always said she knows she’s only “average” in intelligence which I beg to disagree with. To me, intelligence per se should never be described with the word “only”. Like “lang” in the vernacular, it’s a word that’s been much misused and abused to death to degrade one’s self. NOT IN MY BOOK.

And I am only human, and not perfect, and sometimes a little nudging helps. So again, thank you, Lou.

I try to do the same for those who stray here, or whose blogs I accidentally stumble into. (I really should bloghop more.) We are always our worst critics, like I have said time and time again.

Pistachios on a Friday afternoon

I have a huge coat closet in the office which houses some coats and jackets and shoes on one side, and my boss’s personal fridge and our other sundries on another. With summer finally making its presence felt (almost 80 degrees today!) I dug into the my shoe rack to find a pair of flats that would be perfect for this warm weather. It was a pair that had hardly seen any wear during the winter months, so I had to go to a portion of the closet that had been covered by another big box.

Pistachios on a Friday afternoonWhen I opened the box, I found a stash of things I had bought a year ago which I had meant to send to someone celebrating a birthday. 4 bags of pistachio nuts, and maybe 10 bags of assorted flavors of beef jerky. There was also a rain coat. I remember now that some clothes I had put in that bag had been sent home to Manila to my sister eventually. The birthday had come and gone and these things had gotten stuck with me. I figured it was better off left in the closet, and I had ignored it the few times I remembered it was there. Today, though, I checked the expiration date of the pistachios and seeing that they were good until July, I opened a bag and I’m having them for a snack.

They freed up quite a space that I realize now had been misused all this time.  I could’ve had the pistachios sooner. 

But the pistachios were associated with something I had wanted to do back then which I no longer want to have anything to do with now.  I pushed them to a place where I wouldn’t have to be bothered by the memories associated with them.  For a time, I thought I’d eventually send them, but that time never came.

Little things have a way of occupying big spaces in our minds (and in our hearts) sometimes.  Unlike the pistachios in my closet, though, they are not as easy to dispose of.  But a lot of things have changed.  I have noticed that focusing on other things is easier now.  So it’s not as bothersome or painful as it used to be.  Acceptance, or sometimes even hate and anger, are effective means of blocking such intangibles from crowding our heart.  A “negative” will cancel out a “negative” and turn it into something “positive”.

What to do with the beef jerky now… That’ll have to wait another day.

Not quite on its journey yet

Random shots around New York CityI’m combing through the pictures in my memory card and came upon this which I had taken weeks back while in the car driving through the village. and I just felt compelled to put it up here.  For no reason at all. 

Friday is almost here.  Happiness.  Relief.  Another weekend.  The thought made me smile.

I’ve also been trying to get my JOURNAL ON A JOURNEY going by trying to decorate the pages of my composition notebook which is proving to be a challenge.  The pages are too “thin”.  So I’m probably going to have to create the journal from scratch yet again.  It’s been the most difficult part of journaling — choosing and getting the right journalI have written some people I’ve traded journals and done similar swaps with on Swap-bot and the feedback has been more than positive.  It has gotten me all the more excited.  I’m getting there. I was hoping to send the first journal to Manila this coming week, but it’ll probably have to wait another week or two more.  .Decorating my Journal on a Journey

I’m all set to go to Chicago next weekend for Cousin M’s wedding and I’m all excited. It’s just a weekend, and Angelo and I are flying to the windy city for the first time.

I managed to snag half the trip through miles and paid for the return.  Angelo’s flying on miles both ways, and we’re keeping our fingers crossed we can go first class both ways (doing that already on the first leg we’re flying on miles) but the return is full.  My date will be dapper in his suit and I found the perfect dress last week.  I’m actually more excited about going to the reception with him and dancing with him for real on the dance floor.  Lou and I have already made arrangements to meet up.  Unfortunately, it’s a very short trip so the only sightseeing on my list is the Pier.

A journal and a trip ahead… getting there.

A snapshot this evening of 42nd street from 41 storeys above Manhattan

Weekly Photo Challenge: From Above from Pinay New Yorker

I was trying to get a shot to submit for the weekly photo challenge which had “FROM ABOVE” as topic, but I realize now it’s not exactly “from above.” It’s more from up high. (I know, I’m nitpicking but maybe I just need a little more confidence to make a submission.)

Quite a nice picture, though, taken as I was leaving the office today.

Someone special’s Day today

I’m dead tired.  My legs are numb, my hands ache from scribbling and doing hand lettering for my one sentence journal.  I’ve been in bed since 10, but today is the day my little guy came into my life 9 years ago.  He’s exhausted and snoring already.

Happy birthday, Angelo… thanks for the sunshine, the love and the devotion.  My one beacon of hope that there is always hope, no matter what.. no matter how badly I fail or fall.